Shaya!
by Ocaso
Summary: MWPP era! Randomness, angst, pranks, fluff, McGonagall and pent up anger star in this crazy adventure with Cesia, Lily and the Mauraders. WILL BE EDITED AND REPOSTED SOON.


_**Author's Note:**_ I originally set out to make this story crazy and funny and totally random, but then I remembered that in the time this happens, the First Wizarding War was brewing. Thus, I start it darkly, adding bits of fun and randomness later on. Please enjoy it and bear with me… Oh, and REVIEW! Cheers!

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**Disclaimer:** Yes, I do not own this.

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**Shaya! 1: **

**Changing Vocations**

"_Don't!" _

_**Splash!**_

_It was over, she knew, but that didn't mean she'd go without a fight. And, the way she was gurgling, she wouldn't go quietly either…_

_Her brain screamed for oxygen, but no matter how hard she fought, there was little she could do: it was over. Her vision darkened and, with her last gasp, she thought she drank water…_

_And, suddenly, she was floating…_

_It took her a moment – and quite a few coughs – to realize she was on her broom, and that her dad was flying on his, by her side. Spells lit the sky in different colors and her dad kept steering her into safety.  
_"_We're almost there!" – He yelled, panicked. She knew where he was headed, but her coughs didn't let her nod: they were going past the defenses, out into the open, so they could Apparate somewhere._

_But, with the Death Eaters on their tail, she was sure they wouldn't make it –_

_In a flash, her dad had taken hold of her waist and air was once more taken from her chest…_

_Everything hurt as she was pressed from all sides in the darkness, and it hurt even worse when her body met the ground and her lungs breathed in. But she thought she had stopped gurgling… Why could she still hear it? Cesia opened her eyes slowly and looked around. _

_Her dad had his hands on his neck, death-white, trying to stop the blood flow._

_In a second, she was by his side, trying to apply pressure on the wound, but nothing could be done: his blood was seeping through their clothes, making a small puddle on the grass. His eyes were wide and every gasp made the horrible sound she had been making earlier –_

_**He had splinched his throat.**_

_Cesia tried to tell him he'd be all right, just to calm him down – how could she live with herself if she saw him die this frightened? – but no words came: she was crying._

_Yet he didn't seem to acknowledge her presence and seconds later, with a final shudder, he was dead._

_A __**pop!**__ announced that someone had just Apparated next to her, but Cesia didn't care. Her dad had died to save her – what would her mom say? She barely noticed she had been pulled to her feet before it was dark and airless…_

_But, this time, she didn't fight it. How could she? Her father's terrified face was engraved in her mind…_

_And, once again, her body met the floor…_

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"We Apparated right outside St. Mungo's, but I hadn't left the field: from that night on, I've seen them – cowering, running down the streets for cover, with the Dark Mark tingeing the sky green, and the dead bodies underneath… And I feel they're all calling me…"

Professor Flitwick's squeak confirmed he was sobbing, but Cesia couldn't cry anymore. So she waited patiently for almost thirty minutes for him to calm down, thinking her meeting with the Head of House would take longer than everybody else's, and that everybody else would probably resent her for it.

Why had she gone first?

Yet she knew the answer: because she was desperate. Before the summer attack, before everything changed, she had toyed with the idea of becoming a Herbologist or a Potioneer. Now her indecision was gone. The only thing missing was his approval.

When he was finally able to speak, he did so in an oddly constricted voice, but she didn't mind, since she barely paid attention–

_He had agreed._

Thus, it was settled: Cesia would become a Healer. That night, Cesia didn't dream of dead bodies: she dreamt she was healing them…

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A week later, Cesia sat alone in the library, wondering why the rest of her life didn't work out as well as her change of careers had. Hadn't she thought all along that convincing Flitwick would be harder? Why, then, had she been ousted? What had she done wrong?

Cesia remembered how, not so long ago, she felt she could walk up to Lupin and ask for help with DADA, or talk about Ancient Runes to Pettigrew. She could even speak to Evans about Charms and Potions, provided Potter and Black weren't nearby… When had it ended? Why had it stopped?

With a sigh, Cesia brought her eyes back down to her reading – homework didn't care about crumbling friendships – but found she couldn't concentrate, so she stood up to look around.

The new librarian (Madam Mince or Pince or something along those lines) had completely changed the way the books were arranged. Even stricter than the librarian before her, the young woman had taken upon herself the tremendous task of reorganizing all the volumes, which included moving some of them to the Restricted Section, despite the fact that almost everyone already knew them by heart. Thus, it took Cesia a short while to find her favorite copy of _"Dieting is not my fiber – A guide to healthy teenage eating habits"_ in the new layout.

She was about to walk back to her table when she saw him looking at her from the other side of the bookcase. It took all of her courage – or fear of the new Madam, whichever – to not let her book fall to the floor in surprise. She thought about greeting him, but not knowing what to say, decided against it. The teen, no less ashamed than she was, cleared his throat.  
"I didn't know you'd come back…" – He said softly, obviously unsure of what to say. – "Cesia, I'm so sorry…" –

She nodded uncomfortably. His uneasiness grew and he shifted, as if moving away.  
"Wait! I – I wanted to thank you…"

He waited patiently for her to go around, so they could stand face to face and proceed to stare at each other awkwardly for a few seconds, which they achieved easily. Then, as suddenly as always, she stepped forward and hugged him. Strangely, she felt him stiffening under her touch, but she didn't comment on it. Instead, she asked him what had puzzled her for so long.  
"How did you know?"  
"I – I overheard you and Evans talking a – about your families' escape plans before the summer…"

Cesia let him go and stared at the floor, trying to rid her features of the reddish shade that now graced them.  
"You were listening to us? I never thought I'd say this, but… Thank God for stalkers…"

He didn't reply. Her eyes watered: if things hadn't changed, he would have laughed out loud.  
"I wish there was anything I could–"  
"No."  
"But, I–"  
"I did nothing. Everybody was escaping, we were to your left; I saw what happened and knew you'd need help… I told my father where to get you… I am no hero. I'm no – I didn't rescue you. Anyone would have done–"  
"James." – She hugged him again. – "Stop mortifying me and just tell me what you want me to give you."

He sighed. This time, he returned the hug weakly.  
"Nothing…" – And, disentangling himself, he walk away.

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"Don't you have a wand to impale yourself on, Potter?"

Cesia smiled at Lily's harshness: the redhead didn't resort to it often. However, thinking about what James and his father had done for her soon erased the smile from her face, since she assumed it wasn't polite to think like that about saviors.

Sighing, she went back to brainstorming how to show him gratitude. She could always find some strands of Lily's hair and get him really drunk, but the whole scheme was just underhanded. Plus, the instructions to make Polyjuice Potion had been moved to the Restricted Section before she had a chance to properly memorize it, which made the plan an extremely dangerous one… If only she was a Metamorphmagus!

But she wasn't. Looking at the floor, she sighed again: was there nothing she could do?  
"I'm starting to think you just breathe loudly every few minutes, you know?"

Cesia smiled at Remus' calm voice. He looked as worn as ever, but otherwise seemed fine.  
"Sorry. I was in fairyland, getting Potter drunk to have my way with him."

The boy blushed furiously and she cocked her head to the side.  
"Well, alcohol tends to make seduction easier! At least that's what Rosmerta said." – His horrified look prompted her to explain herself. – "During our first trip on the Hogwarts Express, remember? She came in after the food trolley, and we wondered why a seventh year would want to talk to us."  
"She did?"  
"Yeah! Except she didn't really want to talk: she was just selling her drinks. Rather good, too."  
"You are unbelievable, really… I don't remember anything like that happening, _ever_."  
"See? That's just how good her drinks are. Good thing she started a pub in Hogsmeade: we can go refresh your memory."

Remus shook his head and she smiled.  
"You know, if you weren't such a prude, I'd get _you_ drunk first."  
"I'm not a prude! Why does everyone keep saying that?"  
"Oh, so I can have my way with you?" – She laughed, ignoring the strangled "_no_" he uttered. – "Maybe I should find some secret passageway to Hogsmeade then, before you change your mind."

Remus, face as bright as a tomato and unable to speak, walked off. Knowing she had traumatized him, Cesia smirked: her work was done.

And, with that, she went back to thinking about how to properly thank James Potter.

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_**Author's Note:**_ Please stay tuned for the next episode. Until then, FLAME OR REVIEW! Cheers!


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